Their Tale
by JaneSays
Summary: Hogwarts is a boarding house, a home for the broken, the pariahs. It is said that only those who truly need to be there will find their way.
1. Prologue

AU. Hogwarts is a boarding house, a home for the broken, the pariahs. It is said that only those who truly need to be there will find their way. After his spiteful relatives kick him to the curb, seventeen-year-old Harry Potter somehow ends up on the building's doorstep, ushered into a strangely fascinating world that may just lead to him regaining control of his life.

Notes: This story is an alternate-universe but it does contain magic. It is just a different sort of magic that will be explained as this story progresses. This story is centered around Harry, which I am sure that you all knew, but it is also centered around Severus Snape as well. (They will not be coupled together.)

"Warnings": This story will contain male/male and female/female pairings. In that vein then, I suppose I should also warn you that it will contain male/female pairings as well. The heavier warning is that this story deals with abuse of the emotional, verbal, physical and sexual natures. I am not glorifying any form of abuse in any way.

This story is a project that my younger brother, a survivor, and I are working on together.

* * *

Prologue:

"...And don't come back!"

The shout barely registered in Harry's mind as he stumbled down the front walk of Number 4 Privet Drive. Jamming his hands into the pockets of a ratty, cast-off flannel over-shirt that he had never really considered 'his,' he cast a quick glance back at the house he had just been forcefully ejected from.

He (Harry Potter, a malnourished skinny sort of boy of sixteen-going-on-seventeen with unruly black hair and green eyes that weren't of any natural shade) had been living with his aunt and uncle since the death of his parents (which, by the way, he did not remember) when he was an infant.

Life with the Dursleys had been less than pleasant. They resented his presence with every fiber of their wretched, heartless beings and had never (not once) treated Harry civilly. To them, he was a burden, a nuisance, and had to be treated accordingly. To sugarcoat things, he was denied life's basic necessities, assaulted verbally every time he did or didn't do something 'wrong,' and, on occasion, hit. ('On occasion' grew to mean 'several times a week' as time progressed.')

It seemed that they had finally 'had enough,' which left Harry where he was now, trudging down the street with no particular destination in mind, a knapsack containing all of his meager possessions slung over his left shoulder. Harry was certain that three days worth of hand-me-downs, a slim volume that contained the only memories of his family that he had, a pack of cigarettes, and his life savings of ten pounds would not get him far.

He would be turning seventeen in a few days, he mused absently, as he walked along the gutter. A loud banging broke him free from the almost blank frame of mind that could not truly be considered a reverie.

Harry turned, his gaze focusing on the large purple bus. A boy who could not be that much older than himself, with a pock-marked face and stringy hair, stood in the doorway at the top of the steps. "Well," he said, "you goin' to get on or what?"


	2. Chapter One

_AU. Hogwarts is a boarding house, a home for the broken, the pariahs. It is said that only those who truly need to be there will find their way. After his spiteful relatives kick him to the curb, seventeen-year-old Harry Potter somehow ends up on the building's doorstep, ushered into a strangely fascinating world that may just lead to him regaining control of his life._

Notes: This story is an alternate-universe but it does contain magic. It is just a different sort of magic that will be explained as this story progresses. This story is centered around Harry, which I am sure that you all knew, but it is also centered around Severus Snape as well. (They will not be coupled together.)

"Warnings": This story will contain male/male and female/female pairings. In that vein then, I suppose I should also warn you that it will contain male/female pairings as well. The heavier warning is that this story deals with abuse of the emotional, verbal, physical and sexual natures. I am not glorifying any form of abuse in any way.

A thank you goes out to all who have taken an interest in this story.

* * *

Chapter One:

The _Knight Bus_ (as the gold lettering on the outside of the mechanical monstrosity proclaimed) was unlike any other Harry had seen before. Instead of the typical rows of grimy, rubbery seats, the inside of the vehicle was furnished with actual furniture. Large armchairs and coffee tables were set up in what Harry supposed was a mimicry of a cozy, living room atmosphere. (He could only guess from life with the stark, orderly Dursleys.)

"I don't have any money," he had said, hoping that he sounded believable. Stan (the stringy-haired boy) had grudgingly pointed to a sign posted on the immediate inside of the bus: _First-time passengers ride without charge. _That had seemed incredibly odd but, odd or not, it was something Harry felt grateful for.

Harry took a seat in a patched chair, laying his bag down on his lap. Vaguely, he wondered where the bus would take him.

As if breaking into his thoughts, the elderly driver chose that particular moment to call out, "Where to, lad?"

"Um..." he stammered. "I... I really haven't got any place to go to," he managed lamely.

The driver chuckled. "I know just the place, then."

The ride was full of sharp turns, impossible routes, and screeching halts and it left Harry grateful when the driver finally called out, "Your stop, lad."

Panting a bit, Harry managed a shaky, "Thanks."

Glancing up and down the street that he was let off on, Harry took a moment to wonder where exactly the driver had intended for him to go. Finally, an old, brick-front building between a pub and a book shop caught his eye. The sign at the bottom of the steps read, _Hogwarts Boarding House_ and some funny words that Harry couldn't understand (but he thought might be Portuguese or Latin or some other language of the sort). Harry made his way up the steps and pushed the front door open.

A rush of noise greeted his ears and he looked about to see where it was coming from. "Supper time!" a woman shouted, Ireland thick in her voice. 1 "Everybody - supper!" She stopped just moments short from plowing into Harry. "Oh!" she said. She stopped, looking him over. "I don't recognize you." She was a short, plump woman, with vibrant red hair pulled up into a loose pile on the top of her head. Her skirts were patched, an apron over top of them. She was middle-aged, but still pretty and a motherly air surrounded her.

"Um... I just got here," Harry answered.

She murmured something to herself before shouting out, "Albus!"

As if out of nowhere, a tall man appeared behind her. "Yes, Molly?" he said serenely. He reminded Harry of the wizard Merlin from the fairy tales that the Dursleys had banned from their house. He was thin, with knobby fingers and a long, hook-nose. (Honestly, the sight of him made Harry think immediately of a tree.) His beard was long and braided and he wore what appeared to be a colorful, embroidered dressing gown.2

"We have a new arrival," Molly explained.

"I see," said the old man. What _was _his name, Harry wondered. "Albus Dumbledore." A bony hand was held out to Harry.

"Harry," the youth replied.

The two locked gazes, unnatural blue meeting unnatural green. In those few moments that they looked into each others eyes, Harry felt that the old man was reading him somehow, getting to 'know' him, in a sense. An odd feeling went through Harry, a wave of energy rushing from his head to his feet. It seemed as though Albus was uncovering all of Harry's secrets, especially the ones he did not want uncovered. "I have just the room for you," Albus declared at long last. "But, it is time for our evening meal now, if you don't mind waiting before you put your things up."

Harry shook his head. "Oh, no, I don't mind."

"Good. Good. Now, come along." He gave the plump woman a twinkling smile. "Molly is an exceptional cook."

Harry followed the two and found that the kitchen was the source of all of the noise. Two large wooden tables were set up and both were nearly full. The chatter hardly ceased when Molly, Albus and Harry entered the room.

Albus called out, "Your attention please! We have some introductions to make!" When that didn't work, Molly stuck two fingers between her lips, a shrill whistle turning everybody's attention to them.

"That's better," the woman said with a smile.

"Everyone," Albus announced, "we have a new person joining our Hogwarts family tonight. I would like you all to meet Harry."

At least a dozen pairs of eyes took in the pale, waif-like boy with his disheveled hair and oversized clothing. For a moment, there was an awkward silence before everybody broke into their own greetings at once.

"From the left there, we have Hagrid, Mundungus Fletcher, Remus Lupin, Nymph-"

"It's _Tonks_!"

"Ahem, _Tonks, _as she prefers to be called. Then, Bill Weasley - that's Molly's oldest boy, Ian Finnegan, Dorian McClain, Luna Lovegood ... And, ah, it appears that Severus is not here for supper but you shall meet him soon enough. Now, there's an empty seat over by Bill."

Harry felt out of place in the midst of this boisterous, oddly connected family (there was no other word which could suitable convey the bizarre closeness that he saw). He bowed his head and quietly helped himself to what he could when the dishes were passed around.

"You okay, mate? You're looking a bit... ill." Harry looked up to see that it was Bill who had spoken to him. Bill was thin, with auburn hair pulled back into a long ponytail, black clothes and piercings. Two large scars interrupted the patterns of freckles that were splashed across his face but, despite those, he still seemed friendly enough.

"Oh, yeah," Harry replied. "I'm okay." Bill nodded and went back to the conversion he'd been having with the bloke to his left.

Harry couldn't recall having such a good meal in - well, he couldn't ever recall having such a good meal. He wasn't used to be able to take as much as he wanted (seconds, _thirds _even!) and his stomach wasn't used to it either. He barely managed to finish his first helping of meat and potatoes before his stomach was stuffed full and aching. Bill shot him another questioning look when he reached over Harry's plate for the bowl of red cabbage. He just shrugged.

"Are you feeling alright?" It was Molly who asked him next, as he stayed behind in the kitchen with the intentions of helping clean up.

He nodded. "Just tired," he said. "Um... speaking of that... Is there really a room for me, because, if there isn't-"

At that moment, the front door opened and closed with a bang, cutting Harry off and drawing Molly's attention away from him. "You missed supper, Severus," she said. Harry's gaze traveled to the doorway of the kitchen, where Severus loomed (there was no more polite term for it). Harry remembered hearing Albus mention the name and he honestly could not see what was so special about the man. It certainly didn't seem as though there were anything pleasant about him.

He was tall and wore black clothes, like Bill. Unlike Bill, however, his eyes were cold, his countenance stoic. His black hair hung to his shoulders and served to make him appear a ghastly shade of pale. He had a hooked nose, like Albus (though not as severe), and thin, carved-out cheeks. He was not attractive, though not ugly. In Harry's eyes, there was something forbidding about him.

"I know," the man replied plainly. "I ate out."

"Alright then."

For a brief moment, Harry's gaze caught Severus'. He was determined not to break contact first; he had dealt with enough intimidation while living with the Dursleys.

"And _who_ is this?" The question was directed at Molly. "One of Albus' new _children_, I presume?"

Harry didn't like the tone of voice the man used.

"He showed up today," said Molly, as she scrubbed at a pot. "His name is Harry."

"Charming. And where is he to stay?"

"Ah! Severus, my boy, you're back!" Once more, Albus seemingly appeared out of nowhere, flashing everybody in the room a hearty smile. (Harry could have sworn that he saw Severus roll his eyes.)

"Yes, Albus, I am." There was an unspoken, _Unfortunately_ in that.

"I see that you've met Harry."

Severus made a contemplative sound.

"Harry," Albus went on, "is going to be your roommate."

"Lovely."

"Now, Severus! There's no need to be sarcastic. I'm sure you two will get along swimmingly. Dare I say, you might even have some common ground." At that, Severus' expression became unreadable.

"Just follow Severus," Albus said to Harry. "A bed is ready for you."

"Goodnight Harry," Molly bid him, as she pulled him in for a quick hug (in which was an unspoken, _Good luck_).

Severus' strides were lengthy and his long black coat billowed out behind him with each step he took. They went up a flight of stairs and headed down a long hallway. As he went, Harry caught glimpses of some of the other doors, all of which were painted a different color and adorned with plagues bearing the occupants' names. _Bill Weasley, Remus Lupin & Nymphadora Tonks,_ read one sign. _Dorian McClain & Ian Finnegan_, read another. They passed what seemed like dozens of signs before they came to a halt outside of a green-painted door. _Severus Snape_, was the name on the plaque.

Harry's eyes widened as, slowly, a second name - _his_ name - appeared on the sign as well. Just _how _did that happen? He had seen strange things before. He had even _done_ strange things before. But this, did it have a name? Harry was astounded and now knew that the strange feeling he had gotten when he first entered Hogwarts was not just butterflies in his stomach.

Severus snapped him away from his thoughts. "Well," he drawled, "are you coming or not?" This would, undoubtedly, be a long night.

* * *

Author's notes: I prefer the Weasleys to be Irish; it's just one of my "things." However, as I am not Irish (nor are any of my relatives), I would obviously have trouble indicating an Irish accent. If there is anybody out there who would be able to offer their expertise, it would be appreciated.

The standard disclaimers apply to this story. However, Dorian McClain and Ian Finnegan (who is supposed to be Seamus' older brother, by the way) are both characters my brother and I cooked up. They have a purpose, which will be revealed eventually.


End file.
